Shackles
by igirisexual
Summary: Yao has been a prisoner for a long time. A new and strange cellmate gives him all the inspiration and cooperation he needs to work out an escape plan. Now, if only he can get past the brutal officers and heavy security, and stay alive on top of that. RoChu. Now with epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**the prompt was 'shackles'. this fic is going to be multi-chapter, ehuehueheue**

* * *

Handcuffs weren't what Yao wanted. Their cold iron was all that was stopping him from doing his all to break the bars or vent of his cell. He would rather have blood on his hands – as much as he detested it – than the cold metal of his binds. He had ended up in this jail due to his shenanigans in robbing. It was last year that he had been finally caught, after being notoriously known as the local jewel and bank thief. Yao did have an eye for beauty, and money was just as gorgeous as the gems he loved to surround himself with. How he committed the thievery was in fact quite amazing; he would use a combination of various martial arts to take out any guards, break windows or even walls, grab the prize, and then escape via the rooftops. Since his capture, he had spent only a short time in court – he had pleaded guilty, as not doing so would be useless – and after that, he had been moved off to prison, sentenced for serial robbery and sentenced to twenty-four years for the countless stores he'd ransacked.

Summer seemed to bring out the worst in people, he noted. The heat seemed to get to people's heads, and that brought plenty of new inmates to the institution. Yao had been without a cellmate for a long time, since his previous one had finished his sentence and was allowed his freedom again. That man had been plain and quiet, and Yao barely spoke to him.

It was when a new inmate was practically dragged along the corridor that Yao's interest was piqued. The new man clearly didn't fit the garb he'd been given. He was bulky and thick-shouldered; his chest was wide and seemingly plush; he had a messy mop of pale blond hair to top it all off. Even as he was tugged along, Yao could see that he was tall, much taller than he was. Something about the man didn't fit the scene though. Ah, he was crying. There we go.

"Oh, stop your wailing!" cursed one of the cops, who applied a boot to the prisoner's shin. Yao cringed; if there was one officer you didn't want on your case, it was Arthur Kirkland. Notorious for his obsessive rule-enforcing, he was not one to be meddled with. That didn't stop the majority of the prisoners in his cellblock, however, from making fun of him. He began to feel a touch sorry for the new prisoner, who was now just sniveling and sniffling.

It was when Yao's cell door was unlocked that he really took notice of what was going on.

"Look, Wang, you have a chum now," scoffed Arthur, as he pushed the man into his cell and locked the door.

"Just one? Now I have more friends than you, you _Yīngguó zhā_!" Yao hollered, raising his fist – well, as much as he could within his shackles – in what would be considered quite the rude gesture back where he was from.

As Arthur rolled his eyes and toddled off, Yao turned his attention to the puffy-eyed newcomer. "Say, x_iān ròu_, do you have a name?" He queried, giving the man a hard look over. In return, he just let out a little squeak, clearly unsure of what he was supposed to do. "You can speak, I'm not going to bite." Yao quipped, amused by the stranger's silence. "Well, not that much."

"Ivan Braginsky," he stated quietly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Ah, Ivan. How interesting. "Oh, so you can speak!" Yao hummed, getting up from his uncomfortable cell bed and wandering over. "My name is Wang Yao. I'd shake your hand, but the guards don't like me having my hands free, _duìbùqǐ_." He laughed softly, lifting his cuffed wrists to show.

"Mm, hello," murmured Ivan, not exactly comfortable around Yao yet. "So, who are you exactl-"

"So, what did you do, pray tell?" Yao interjected, taking another step closer, and watching Ivan take a step back. "Was it bad? Real bad? _Shì de_, I hope it's something interesting!"

Well, he was pushing all the wrong buttons and being an insensitive prick while he was at it, as it seemed. At his questions, the man just flinched and backed up even more, until he was pressing himself against the wall of the cell, features scrunched up. He really wasn't the prisoner type, was he? Poor guy. "I didn't mean to, I-" he whimpered, holding his head in his hands.

At the distress of the strange man, Yao's eyes softened, and he just stared in pity as his fellow inmate ended up curled up and on the floor. "Uh, _duìbùqǐ_, I'm sorry," he muttered, crouching beside the man. "You may as well tell me, or some other inmate will make up a story, and rumors spread like wildfire in this hell." Yao mused, raising a brow. "If you wish, I can tell my story first?" After a few moments of silence – well, silence if you excused Ivan's soft sniveling – Ivan quelled his tears, and managed to sit up again, and nodded.

"I was the best jewel thief around." Yao started, sitting down properly and smiling to his cellmate as he began to relay his tale. Many of the new inmates already knew of him when they came here, so someone who didn't was a rare and pleasant surprise. "I'd be in as fast as lightning, I would take what I wanted, and I'd be out just as quickly as I'd come. Cops couldn't catch me, no matter how hard they tried."

"If they couldn't catch you, how come you're here?" Ivan asked softly, not meaning to sound cheeky, but doing so anyway. He wiped his eyes and intently listened.

"Hey! I'm telling the story, and I'll get to that part when the time is right!" Yao puffed, embarrassed. "Anyway, as I was about to say, it was the big-time heist that was my downfall. _Dìyù_, I was a fool for even trying to rob the Edelstein mansion. They were expecting me when I got there, and tasers are just a bit faster than me." He laughed bitterly, running his fingers through the tips of his hair. "I still have a scar on my belly from when the cops tried to stab me," he scoffed.

"You sound dangerous," Ivan said quietly, a little worried for his own safety in this cell.

"And you're not? You wouldn't be here if you were a harmless little pup." Yao scoffed, leaning his hands in his lap as he sat basket-style.

"That's it though, I'm not supposed to be here!" Ivan whined, shifting a little where he sat. "There was a mix-up, I couldn't have killed either of them-" he whimpered, threatening to cry again.

"Uh, now, now, don't cry, _qǐng_," Yao mumbled, reaching out awkwardly and trying to pat Ivan's shoulder, as hard as it was to do so. "You're going to have to suck it up, as irritating as that is, because if you're here, in this here cellblock, you're here for a while.. Now what exactly did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" protested Ivan, staring at Yao with wide eyes. At some point, he had started to shake, the anxieties caused by this place starting to finally set in. "My sisters were murdered-.. I was framed, I-.. I-!" he stammered, beginning to gasp for breath. Alarmed, Yao shuffled forward and touched at the man's hand, quietly trying to tell him to calm down. "I didn't kill them!" screeched Ivan, who was finding it hard to inhale.

"That's right, you didn't, I know," assured Yao, honestly frightened by the larger man, doing his best to try to soothe the poor guy. "Ivan Braginsky, please calm down," he tried, unsure of just what to do as his cellmate's panic attack only worsened.

Ivan's screaming had not gone unheard, and it wasn't long before the head of the officers at the cellblock turned up to check what the fuss was about. Fretting, Yao turned to the Briton standing in front of the cell, and shouted a 'd_āizi_, do something!'. The door was unlocked hastily, and a pair of Arthur's inferiors bustled about inside. One of them drew a syringe, to sedate the seething and hyperventilating Russian. It all seemed to be a blur as he was carried out of the cell, the door was locked, and Yao was left alone again.

* * *

**_A/N:_ Yīngguó _is a word of Chinese derivative slang that is used to mean 'Britain' or 'British'_. Zhā_ translates to 'prick'._**

**Xiān ròu _translates to 'fresh meat'._**

**Duìbùqǐ _translates to 'excuse me' or 'I'm sorry'._**

**Shì de _translates to 'yes'._**

**Dìyù_ translates to 'hell'._**

**Qǐng _translates to 'please'._**

**Dāizi _translates to 'idiot'._**


	2. Chapter 2

The whole night passed, and Ivan was never returned. As Yao roused from his sleep, he glanced about the cell, frowned, and got to his feet. He stretched as much as he could – sleeping with binds on one's wrists was hardly comfortable – and shuffled over to the door of his cell. In the mornings, the prisoners would be sent down to the cafeteria, block by block, to get their sunup rations.

Yao just yawned as the door to his cell was opened, and he was escorted by one of the guards down to what was the prison's mess hall. He engaged in the monotonous ritual of going and getting a tray of food, and then searching for a table not occupied by those who held a grudge against him.

He considered taking a seat beside a small group, an all-blond collection of people from upper Europe – he knew those five well. Their story was an infamous one; they were a tiny organization that ultimately worked as a wide-ranging crime syndicate. Tino seemed to be the sweet-faced young man who was used to lure in unsuspecting victims, whereas Lukas and Emil were the quiet and stealthy thieves of the group. Mathias bore the scars of a knife-fighter, and Berwald took his part as treasurer or occasional user of brute force. Each of them had a specialty, and together, they were a lethal crew. Why they hadn't been shipped off to separate prisons was a wonder to Yao. Probably a funding issue, he figured.

As he continued to scan the room, his copper eyes latched onto what he didn't know he was looking for. Oh joy, it was Ivan! Slowly, he toddled over to the man, unsure of what to expect. It seemed that this new cellmate of his was quite erratic, and to be honest, that spooked Yao. But, for now, he seemed to be spaced out.

"_Zǎochen hǎo_," greeted Yao as he sat down at the table, sitting so that he was opposite to Ivan. He didn't get a reply, or even acknowledgement, so he tried repeating what he'd said. With still no answer, he reached over and tapped the man on the shoulder, seeming to knock him out of his stupor. "I said, good morning, cellmate. You with me now?" He scoffed, raising a brow.

"Eh-.. Sorry.." the man mumbled, glancing to his cold breakfast and just giving it a stare.

"Eat up, because you don't get any more until midday, and that's a long way from now." Yao instructed, tucking into his own rations rather ferociously.

Ivan nodded, taking a hold of his plastic spork, and trying to stay focused. "They dosed me up on something-.. I can hardly keep my eyes open," he admitted meekly, accidentally dropping the tool from his hand.

"Probably because of your whole episode yesterday," Yao scoffed, wiping his mouth with one sleeve once he was done eating. "You have to learn to keep your temper under control, or you'll end up as dog food around here." He continued. "I learnt that the hard way, and I have the scar to prove it, aiyah." grumbled Yao, referring to the large scar he had gained across his back.

"Dog food.." Ivan echoed, off in his own world again. "I have a dog," he cooed, smiling a little. "I hope she's okay.."

"Now really isn't the time to be worried about your pet," he replied, raising a brow. "Anyway! Are you allowed back to the cell after breakfast?" Yao puffed, scooping food from Ivan's tray up to the man's mouth.

Ivan wrapped his lips about the food, taking it and lamely swallowing before he could utter an answer. "They said something about that, yeah… Something about keeping a close eye on me," he mumbled, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

Yao just groaned in response. "_Pìhuà_, _zhè xī.._" he muttered, irritated. He gained a confused look from Ivan, and he puffed out a sigh. "Since you're gonna be stuck in here, we may as well get to know each other." Yao suggested, changing the subject.

"Probably better to talk when I'm not all, you know," the man murmured back, sloppily lifting a spoonful of food to his mouth.

"Yeah, I get it." Yao pouted. "We'll talk back in the cell, and I'll fill you in on all the things you'll need to know." At how professional he sounded, Yao just let out a short scoff. "Ha, I sound like a right veteran, and I've only been in hell for a year. How sad is that?"

They finished eating and were ushered back to their cell. Once returned, Yao lay down on his bed and just breathed a sigh. "Give me a holler if you're feeling less out of it," he pouted. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ivan sit down and lean his back against the wall.

"Uh, I think I'm fine about now," Ivan mused quietly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Now that he looked closer, Yao noticed scars that traced around the man's throat. He wondered, and considered asking, but deemed that insensitive, and a question for another time.

Yao nodded, and began to relay the information another prisoner had told him when he first arrived. After speaking of the strict rules and punishments, he just watched Ivan shudder.

"I don't want to be here.." Ivan murmured, hugging his knees up against his chest. "I need to go back home again- I-" he stammered, beginning to lose his composure.

"No-one wants to be here, " he replied, getting up and going to sit down beside Ivan. "Except perhaps that _húndàn_, Kirkland. I swear that he gets kicks out of seeing us suffer, the sadist." He joked softly.

"So why don't we run?" Ivan suggested, almost under his breath. This caught Yao off-guard.

"Wait, did you say 'run'? Are you serious?" murmured Yao. "But if we get caught, we'll get busted so badly-"

Ivan shook his head as he stared blankly down at the floor. "Then we won't get caught."

Reluctantly, Yao dipped his head. "Uh, any suggestions?" Ivan shrugged, and Yao just puffed out a sigh. "This is probably a terrible idea, but I guess we can brainstorm later." Now, he glanced out into the main corridor of the cellblock, where other inmates were being lead out, and presumably into the yards. "Looks like it's Rec. hour. Joy of joys, right?"

"Rec. hour?" Ivan repeated, unsure of what that entailed.

"_Shì de_, Rec. hour. We're allowed into the fenced yards to do some kind of sport or activity for an hour. To keep us from dying of boredom, as I see it," scoffed Yao. "I'll introduce you to some guys I know." Nodding, Ivan rose to his feet, helping Yao do the same. It wasn't long before their cell door opened, and they were shoved off and down to the yards.

A blond man was the first to approach them, bearing a rather dazzling smile and a broken pair of glasses.

* * *

**_A/N: _Zǎochen hǎo _translates to 'good morning'._**

**Pìhuà_ translates to 'shit', and _zhè xī _translates to 'this sucks'._**

**Húndàn _translates to 'asshole'._**

**Shì de_ translates to 'yes'._**


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey you, you're a newbie, aren't you?" The man chirped, turning to Ivan. "And you finally got a bunk buddy, Yao?" Ivan just meekly nodded to the young man, waiting for Yao to speak in his place.

"What is it, Alfred? Are you just going to pawn more cigarettes off me? You already owe me three packets; you're in debt." Yao puffed as he went to cross his arms. At the realisation that he could not, he just pouted. "And yes, this is Ivan Braginsky. Fresh meat and _'bunk buddy'_ since yesterday."

Ivan dipped his head a little as his name was relayed, and gave a weak smile. He didn't quite know what to make of this Alfred character just yet, so he decided to stay silent.

"Congratulations on getting a roomie," cooed Alfred, painfully positive as ever. Now, he flexed the fingers on his palm as he lifted it, waiting for something. "C'mon, Yao, high-five? Oh, right," he snickered, earning quite the stare from his fellow prisoner. "Sorry, I forgot that you're a ticking time bomb of Kung-Fu." He smirked, shrugging.

"Uh, are you alright?" Ivan asked quietly, seeing as Yao was practically twitching in irritation. The man shook his head, and Ivan began to fret. "Is there anything I can do?.." Yao shook his head once again.

"First, cellmates are very different to roommates, and second, it's _mixed martial arts._"

"Huh, I thought they were all the same," chuckled the American. All his cheer in such a gloomy environment seemed to set Yao off more. As if everyday stress wasn't enough, Yao was easily irritated by other inmates, and the whole issue with Ivan's panicking last night didn't do much good for him, either. Yao's temper was a very short fuse.

"Impudent as ever, _dāizi_," he tutted, using insults as a way to try and let off steam. Alfred's next statement was what pushed Yao over the edge.

"Hey now, we're in America! There's no need to speak Japanese or whatever."

"Maybe I should speak in a language you understand.." Yao paused, before swinging up one of his feet and punting Alfred squarely in the side. Ivan just squeaked as the contact was made between prisoners. Tensions were high in places like prisons, and irritation and the heat of summer just made them skyrocket.

What happened next seemed to be a blur to Yao; Ivan tried to protect him – but ultimately failed – and the provoked Alfred went to town on him, giving tough punches to his stomach.

"_Prisoner 11201._" The words were cold and commanding, but they made Alfred freeze on the spot. Even frozen, he clutched Yao's collar in one hand, the other raised and ready to strike again in a punch. "Let go of him." Thankfully, Arthur Kirkland had shown up on the scene. This was perhaps the one time that Yao had been appreciative for the officer's presence.

Yao was released, and he stumbled back, using Ivan as a support as he tried to regain his breath.

"Now, what have I told you about violence towards other prisoners?"

"That I shouldn't-"

"Exactly. So why did you?"

Like a dog to his scornful master, Alfred stumbled over to Arthur, and just stood there, a lot quieter than normal. "I just got worked up, and-.. I couldn't control myself," he said quietly. Running a hand through his hair, Arthur puffed out his cheeks. "One more incident like this, and the cuffs go on, right-o, Jones?" He stated, raising one of his bristly eyebrows. "I'm ordering you to go and make up with Wang. Fighting amongst inmates is forbidden, you know that."

Lamely, Alfred dipped his head, gritting his teeth a little. "Just don't give me handcuffs, officer." He conceded, before turning to face the still-bewildered Ivan and Yao.

"I won't if I don't need to. Now go." Arthur instructed, tsking and moving off from the group.

Ivan's eyes were still wide, and he was wary as Alfred returned to them. Instinctively, he moved in front of his cellmate, ready to be better protection against the American this time around.

"I'm sorry, blah blah, I won't do it again, etcetera." Alfred groaned, pushing his glasses back up to their proper place on his nose. Ivan just tensed more and gritted his teeth as the American's hands moved.

"Hey, Ivan, calm down, this has happened plenty of times," Yao assured, standing up weakly from behind the bulky Russian. "No need to get worked up."

"Uh, if you say so, Yao," Ivan murmured, stepping so that he wasn't in front of his companion as much.

"I'll have you know, that was Chinese." Yao scoffed, extending one of his shackled hands for Alfred to shake. He took it, and gave a little smile.

"But seriously, what the hell was that?" he quipped, letting go of Alfred's hand, and pointing a finger at him instead.

"Remind me what you're talking about?"

"I think he means with the officer." Ivan chimed in, peering past Alfred, and to where the aforementioned officer was loudly scolding an Italian for flirting with other inmates.

"Uh," Alfred started, but paused. Yao noted that his cheeks were a little pink, but disregarded it as an effect of the heat. "I don't know-"

"Even I can tell that's a lie," interjected Yao.

"For at least a month, he's been actually kind of human towards you," he scoffed, leaning forward a little and poking Alfred's chest in accusation. "Whereas he treats the rest of us like living garbage."

"I'll talk to you guys again at lunch, yeah?" Alfred laughed, awkward as he turned away. That wasn't even a subtle change in topic, and yet he had gone off already.

"See you," Ivan murmured, glancing to Yao in anticipation of an explanation.

"It's almost like Alfred is Kirkland's little pet or something," he sneered, rolling his eyes. "But let's just enjoy Rec. hour, or what's left of it."

"We'll get down to the bottom of this at lunch, right?" queried his companion, giving a weak smile.

For the remainder of the hour, the two moved down to one of the larger yards, one occupied by short and dead grass. Other inmates were playing a game of soccer, but the pair lay by the edge of the yard and decided just to enjoy the fresh air.

"Do you really think we could escape this place?" asked Yao, watching the clouds pass in the sky above.

"I certainly hope so-.. Even if we don't, it'll have been worth a shot.." mumbled Ivan, biting his lip. "I just-.. I _need_ to go home, you know? Even if I'll be the only one in the house.."

"I understand, although I left a big family. I stole _for them_, in the first place." Yao was bitter now, as telling his tale tended to leave him that way. "Once the bills were paid for, I thought I could stop, but it'd become an obsession and a game to me," he mused softly, hands in his lap. As the semi-deflated soccer ball came hurtling Yao booted it right back on instinct. He acted as if it never happened.

"My sisters were murdered in our own street." Ivan's words were sullen and dark, and his expression even more so. "I saw it-.. It was so awfully macabre.." He paused, covering his eyes with one arm so that Yao did not see him cry. "Throats slit with a pocket knife; one stolen from my room," he uttered, trying not to tremble. "The police found my DNA on the murder weapon, and I-.." he mumbled. He went to speak again, but stayed quiet as he felt Yao's hands grasp gently onto one of his.

"You can cry, you don't have to hide it from me," Yao said softly, features softened. "One of my brothers left us after an argument and a car accident. So I understand what loss feels like." He spoke quite quietly now, closing his eyes. He let a tiny smile crease his lips as Ivan squeezed his hand a touch.

"I hate it here and it's only been two days," Ivan whimpered, not moving his arm from his damp eyes.

"We're going to get out of here, alright?" Yao insisted, trying to raise his friend's spirits with hope. "We're going to work this out, and you can go home, and play with your dog, and eat real food again."

Ivan nodded, holding onto Yao's hand like a lifeline. "I-.. We'll escape together, and you can go back to your family-"

"I can't go back to them, not after being caught. Cops will think to look for me there." Yao interjected, frowning a little. He quickly found that his solemn words only caused Ivan to roll over onto his side, and cup his larger hand over Yao's own.

"You'll go where you need to go, then, and we'll be free."

* * *

**_A/N: _Dāizi _translates to 'idiot'._**


	4. Chapter 4

As the hour drew to its close, they sat up, quick to part their hands.

"Sorry," Yao uttered softly, rising to his feet and beginning to lead the way back to the cellblock.

"It's okay, really," murmured Ivan, who wore the tiniest of smiles. "So, is it lunchtime now, or do we have more time in the cells now?" He asked meekly.

"Lunch," he answered, hurrying his pace a bit. "I'm more eager for some answers from Alfred, though."

"It is quite the curious matter," the Russian mused, glancing to their surroundings as they entered the mess hall once again. It seemed that their cellblock was one of the first in this time, and that was a pleasant surprise. Alfred had beaten them to the cafeteria, as it seemed.

Ivan and Yao sat down at the table already occupied by the American after retrieving their meal trays.

"So, what's the deal?" asked Yao, scooping what was supposed to be mashed potato into his mouth. Alfred glanced about, clearly nervous. "Come on and tell us! I mean, it's not like you're sleeping with him or anything."

Alfred just tensed and stared away.

"Oh my god," Yao snickered, dropping his spoon. "You _are _sleeping with him, aren't you-"

"It happened once and I swore it would never happen again but he has a way with words, okay?!" Alfred stammered, burying his flushed face in his hands. "He says I'm his favourite.. Hahah.."

"That's obvious," Ivan spoke quietly, raising a brow. "He doesn't seem to show a shred of mercy to anyone else."

"Hey, isn't Kirkland married?" scoffed Yao, smirking ever so slightly. "I wouldn't know, since he always has his gloves on, but I've heard things." He mused, prodding Alfred's shoulder with one finger.

"He does have a ring," Alfred conceded, biting his lip. "Fuck, I should just shut up,"

"Don't you want to escape, Alfred, was it?" Ivan interjected, trying to down the bland food in front of him. "Yao," he started, turning to face his cellmate. "I'm sure you know what blackmail is." He was frightening when his words were as cold as this – he even seemed to gain a dark aura.

"You can't do that to Arthur," Alfred protested, regretting the words as he spoke them.

"Don't tell me you actually care about him," scoffed Yao. "What about that sister of yours? How's she holding up?"

"How am I supposed to know? I haven't seen Madeline since I got chucked in here-"

"Exactly." Ivan interrupted, finding that he and Yao worked well as partners in negotiation. "Which matters more?"

"This scoundrel 'lover' of yours," Yao paused here, gagging in jest at the mention of Arthur. "Or your sweet sister, who is probably missing you and having trouble managing the house by herself?"

"Madeline, of course.. The last time I saw here, she was pregnant with the child of a man she'd had a one night stand with.." Alfred mumbled, playing with his hands. For one who was usually so ravenous at the table, it was obvious that he wasn't feeling too good; there was still food on his tray. "Are you two really going to try and make a break for it?" He mused quietly, painfully docile compared to his usual energetic self.

"If we can pull something with the Officer, yes," stated Ivan, glancing to Yao.

"I-.." Alfred started, letting out a deep sigh. "I'll help you, as long as I'm included in this escape effort.. But can't we come to a compromise about Arthur?.."

"I do not believe in compromise." Ivan said softly. "What needs to be done is what shall be done." Alfred grit his teeth, but nodded.

"Sounds like we have a team," hummed Yao, given a little more hope to this objective now that they actually had a means of action.

The time for lunch ended, and the prisoners were once again returned to their cells. Ivan was not as objecting of the guards' shoves when he slowed down as he had been previously; he was too focused on his thoughts of freedom.

"When do you think we should try and grab our ticket out?" Yao asked softly, sitting down on his cell bed.

"What, is there any reason to wait?" With that, Ivan hollered 'Kirkland!' into the corridor between cellblocks.

The summoned officer appeared on the other side of the cell bars, grim-faced and unpleasant as ever. "What do you fools want?" He grunted, clearly displeased by their disturbance. "Other than to spoil another sunny day on this earth?"

"I've heard things about Alfred, Officer." Yao chimed in, getting up and stepping closer to the bars. "He's said things too."

"Oh, amazing. He has _never_ talked before. Good job on getting the fool to speak." Arthur muttered, words heavily laced with sarcasm. "Is that all?"

"I hear that you may just have certain relations with him." Ivan uttered, causing the Briton's stern face to falter, albeit only for half a second. "While I believe that you have a ring on your finger." His words were clean-cut and firm, and Yao found himself once again frightened by the larger man. He was quite fearsome when his will was sharpened by focus on a goal.

"You can prove nothing," Arthur muttered, leaning one hand on the bars of the cell's door. He had leant in closer, so that other prisoners would not hear him as easily.

"There's obviously something going on between you two," spat Yao, teeth grit in irritation. "Even a prisoner who's been here for less than two days can spot that you're a monster to everyone but him. Oh, and are you not admitting something by saying that we can't prove anything?"

"Oh, you wound me," Arthur murmured, rolling his green eyes. "You two should learn your place and stop making ridiculous accusations!" He grunted, creasing his brow. "I would never do things of that kind to a prisoner!"

"Mm? What kind of things?" smirked Yao. There, they had him cornered.

"We never mentioned anything of the sort. But now that you bring it up.." hummed Ivan, pleased that they were beginning to twist the officer around their fingers.

Arthur grimaced. "I ran my mouth, didn't I?" He asked, slumping a little where he stood.

"It's wise to look before you leap, Kirkland." Yao sneered, glancing to his cellmate and just letting his smile grow wider.

"What do I have to do to get you two to keep your mouths shut?" He puffed, voice dropped to something just above a whisper. He would be ruined if word of this got out; not only would his wife be furious, but his reputation – and more importantly his occupation – would be at stake.

"Get us out of here." Ivan answered, very quiet and solemn in how he spoke. Yao could hardly believe that he was the same person that was brought in here crying and whimpering.

"How am I supposed to do that? I'll lose my job!" the Briton hissed, teeth bared in a snarl. As much as he despised the idea of negotiating with prisoners, he would do what he had to do.

"Then don't get caught." Yao murmured, grabbing Arthur by the tie and tugging him closer; close to the point where the officer's cheek was against the cold bars of the cell. "Maybe you accidentally left this cell unlocked, perhaps you also left the keys for these cells somewhere easy to find, s_hì de_? Be the one on cellblock patrol at the time." Yao whispered, before shoving the officer back away.

With all at stake, Arthur hesitantly bobbed his head. "This is the one and only time I'll let you win one over me, Wang. Tell a soul about _him_, and you're as good as dead." He muttered, turning and fixing his tie. Huffing, he glanced to the cell once more, gaze sharper than any blade. "Tonight." With little else to say, he moved off to attend to his other duties, as well as try to quell his burning headache.

After a few moments of watching him go, Yao and Ivan turned to face one another.

"We're almost there, Ivan!" chirped Yao, put in an unusually cheerful mood. "We're going to get out of here!.." he hummed, this line a lot quieter.

Smiling, Ivan took Yao's hands in his own. "Beneath this act, I'm really terrified," he admitted softly, giving a lopsided smile. "I've never busted out of prison before."

* * *

**_A/N: _Shì de_ translates to 'yes'._**


	5. Chapter 5

The night came ever so slowly, as the afternoon consisted of staring out the barred window of the cell and waiting for it to grow dark. Both Ivan and Yao were heavily nervous about this plan, but they dared not show that to one another. They had to be fearless to get through this one.

The time came for the final meal of the day, and Arthur showed up on cue to lead them to the cafeteria. They ate, not speaking, feeling as if chatter would jinx their strategy. As per usual, they were returned to the cell. Yao noted how Arthur neglected to properly lock the door.

"Shall we make this cliché and leave at midnight?" smirked Yao, swinging his legs gently back and forth as he sat upon his bed.

"Perhaps a bit before?" Ivan mused quietly, raising a brow. "I'm not a fan of cliché."

"Yeah, yeah, alright.." Seeming to remember something, Yao groaned and rubbed at his temples. "We have to get Alfred out, don't we?.. God, that's just going to complicate things even more." he muttered, sour. "He's my friend, but if we get caught because we stopped to free him, I'm not going to forget that anytime soon."

"A deal is a deal, Yao," scolded Ivan, patting his friend's shoulder. "You can't alter the terms by not helping him out." He murmured. "I've noticed you haven't been speaking as much Chinese," he observed, raising a brow.

"What Alfred says bothers me greatly," puffed Yao, clenching his bound hands into fists. "I see."

The afternoon rolled past, and finally, it was dark. Yao could see Arthur in the corridor as he walked past their cell every now and then. The time between passes grew longer, and Yao took a deep breath. "Ivan," he whispered, the slightest of smiles creasing his lips.

"Yao." the man uttered in return, taking a step closer to the cell door.

In the next few moments, they held their breath. Pushing gently at the door, slipping out, sticking to the shadows.. It was like something out of a film. Yao's eyes were glued to Arthur as he patrolled. Even though they had leverage on the officer, there was no way of knowing if his agreement wasn't just a means to catch them and give them worse punishments.

They were slow on their feet. Yao constantly hushed Ivan because his walking was much too loud; the Russian wasn't quite built for stealth work. As they managed to reach the end of the corridor, Yao hesitated. He had heard something, and turned a little to see what it was.

"Guys!" Alfred whispered, leaning against the bars of his cell and bearing a distressed expression. "Aren't you forgetting someone?" He hissed, creasing his brow. Exasperation was heavy in his eyes.

"Shit," Yao cursed under his breath. He had been almost considering just leaving Alfred behind and running with Ivan while he still had the chance. "We have to go and get the keys, Ivan," he mumbled. "Find somewhere to hide for now; I'll be back as quickly as I can."

As Ivan shuffled back into the shadows, Yao slunk off in the direction of Arthur's office. The door had been left ajar, and Yao praised the lords above for that. He slipped in, only having to open the door a little more to be able to slide his slim self through. His smile only grew when he caught sight of the keys sitting right there on the desk. This was going well so far, and he could only pray that his luck continued.

He grabbed the keys, holding them in a way that would ensure they did not jingle. He did his best to stay quiet as he escaped, out of the office and back into the corridor of the cellblock. Yao grew relieved at the sight of Ivan, and he slithered back to his companion.

"Is everything alright?" he asked under his breath, seeing that Ivan was shaking ever so slightly. The man nodded his head, but that in itself was a lie. He was letting his nerves get the better of him, as much as he wanted to be able to resist.

Yao waited until Arthur had passed in the other direction before boldly stepping out of the shadows and trying to unlock Alfred's cell. He did not have a cellmate, probably because of Arthur's meddling; that would have made it easier for Kirkland to keep up this little love affair, Yao guessed. After fiddling with each key within the lock, he finally found the correct one. The click of the cell door opening was like a choir of angels to his ears. Alfred stepped out and closed the door behind him. He wasn't smart enough to take a hint and slip into a spot where he couldn't be seen.

"Get back here, you dimwit," cursed Yao, awkwardly grabbing Alfred and yanking him backward. "Do you _want_ to get us caught? If you're going to tag along, you have to follow my lead entirely. He let go of Alfred's collar, and returned his cuffed hands to in front of him.

"We need to get out of here before someone notices we're missing from our cells." Ivan stated quietly, tense and on edge.

Yao nodded, and headed slowly along the walls and to the end of the corridor.

The trio stayed hushed as they waited for a guard to pass, and then continued along the next building. As they drew closer to the end of the cafeteria building – there was a back door through the kitchen – their quiet traversing was interrupted. A guard, tan-skinned with curly brown hair, stood at the door they needed to pass. He was acting casual, and he seemed to be a bit tired and off-focus. Perfect.

Yao didn't hesitate. In a few blurry moments, he had charged forward, and slammed his foot right into the man's stomach. Ivan was amazed by his cellmate's agility, even more so at how accurate his kicks were. Winded, the officer slumped against the wall, reaching down for the pistol on his belt.

His fingers met only the holster, as Alfred's quick hands had gotten there first. "No you don't," he smirked, acting as if this was just a game. That attitude irritated Yao to no end.

"Ivan, get through the kitchen, get that back door open," he hissed, bringing his knee up to the struggling guard's groin. He felt no remorse, as he had a purpose, and he intended to fulfill it. Ivan did what he was told.

Writhing, the guard shouted out, his cry for help echoing through the cafeteria. Yao flinched when he heard the footsteps. They were heavy and clumsy, a kind of desperate running.

"Antoni-" the second guard started, but cut himself off before he could speak any more.

He drew his pistol, and aimed for the trio of prisoners.

"Get the fuck away from him!" The officer snarled, clicking off the safety. Yao grit his teeth and made a dash for the kitchen, praying that Ivan had managed to get the door open. Alfred did not follow.

Ivan had still been struggling with the lock when Yao entered the room.

"I don't know how to open it-" he stammered. Yao had no time for this, and he just barged into the door with all of his might – and a sense of urgency to boot – causing the lock to break, and the door to swing open. He turned now to call for Alfred, but stopped himself when he heard the crack of a gunshot.

Everything seemed to freeze, including Yao. He went to yell, but couldn't find the voice. Only a few seconds passed, and Alfred dived back into the kitchen. The pistol that he'd nicked from the first officer was smoking. "It's been so long since I shot someone!"

"You ass," Yao wheezed in relief, turning to the open door. "But we've probably got their attention, and we have to fucking run."

They did just that, with Yao leading the trio. Ivan's running was clumsy and slow, and Yao found himself urging the Russian to move faster. On the other hand, Alfred was exceptionally athletic. It was a mad dash through the courtyards, but for now, there were no guards pursuing them.

They reached the fence at the edge of the yards, one that wore barbed wire as a crown.

"You two go first." Yao instructed, knowing that it'd be a struggle to climb with his handcuffs on. Nodding, Alfred quickly scaled he fence, avoided the wire, and jumped over to the other side.

"The grass really is greener!"

"Now's not the time." Muttered Yao, watching Ivan fight to even get up the first few steps.

Puffing, Yao began to climb as well, helping Ivan when he cold. Finally, they reached the top, and were now faced with the problem of the barbed wire.

"You guys are taking too long," scoffed Alfred, who was watching them with crossed arms. "So, seeya!" He laughed quietly, before turning and running off into the night.

"Bastard!" Yao hollered, frustrated.

"That was kind of expected," whispered Ivan, who was hesitantly putting his hand around past the wire.

It was in a few mere seconds that Ivan missed where he went to hold, and toppled over the other side of the fence.

"Ivan!" Yao exclaimed, remembering too late to lower his voice. Hurriedly, he vaulted the fence, not caring that one of the barbs had torn a small gash in his hand. "Shit, Ivan, are you okay?" he muttered quickly, worried that the Russian's eyes were closed. "Ivan!"

"Mmh.." the man mumbled, blinking open his eyes. "I had a bad fall-.. My leg.." he mumbled, glancing downwards and feeling sick. His leg was out of place, twisted where it shouldn't have been.

"We can't stop now.." Yao fretted, standing and helping to lift Ivan to his feet. "Do you have those keys still?.. If I can get my handcuffs off-"

"Not now, wait until we're further away.." Ivan puffed, cringing every time he tried to move his right leg.

This wasn't going according to plan. Alfred had left them, there was a man bleeding out and probably dying back in the cafeteria, and Ivan had broken his leg-.. Yao bit his lip, and did his best to help Ivan hobble away. There was shouting from the other side of the fence; guards had caught onto them and were probably on the way now. A torchlight shone towards Yao, and he flinched.

"We have to get out of here, now!"

Ivan nodded, and did his best to hobble beside Yao. Falling and tripping wasn't exactly effective running, and Yao took to desperate measures. "We're getting nowhere!" He cursed, turning towards Ivan, and just scooping him up in his arms. As heavy as the man was in his arms, Yao did what he needed to do, and started running again, carrying Ivan bridal-style.

After a long time of running and almost dropping Ivan, Yao managed to get them to an alley in the city that was a vague neighbor of the prison.

"We're out-" Ivan wheezed as Yao finally put him down, resting him against the wall.

"Yeah.. Not without a price paid, though," he mumbled, glancing to the poor man's leg. "I think we lost them for now."

* * *

**this is the second last chapter, so the finale is next!**


	6. Chapter 6

"We made it.." whispered Ivan, giving a bright smile to Yao. His smile was lost, as Yao could not see it in the darkness of the alley. Sighing, Yao collapsed against the wall, closing his eyes for just a second.

"We certainly did.. Reckon you could try and get these off of me now?" he mumbled, talking about his handcuffs. Shifting a little where he sat, Ivan drew the keys that he'd kept close throughout their escape.

It took a few minutes, but Ivan managed to find the right key, and unlocked Yao's binds accordingly. The man sighed in relief, so very glad to have free hands again. Grinning, he stretched his hands up and around, just overjoyed to have freedom of movement again. Things seemed to be taking a turn for the better, for once.

"We're probably going to have to move again soon," he sighed quietly, blinking a bit to try and see better in the dark. "But we can rest for now."

"I don't know if I'd be able to run again," Ivan conceded. He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, and then wiped the sweat from his brow. The cool night air was thankfully starting to combat the heat he'd built up while running.

"Ah.." Yao murmured, staring up into the sky. "Look, Ivan, the stars." Smiling, he pointed up to a certain group of stars. "Do you know what constellation that is?" He managed to see Ivan shake his head, and he just chuckled quietly. "Neither do I." It wasn't even that funny, but the two ended up laughing quietly to each other, too mirthful to even care.

Ivan was still in disbelief that they'd escaped, but allowed himself some happiness. As more time passed, and the cold swept over them, Ivan and Yao ended up huddled together for warmth. They didn't want to move yet, nor did they have the ability to, what with Ivan's broken leg. As Yao rested his head against Ivan's chest, he just closed his eyes and tried to relax. There was the sound of cars driving past, a sound that Yao hadn't realised he'd missed back when he had been in captivity. Hoots from night birds above also played through the silence, and the two felt as if they could fall asleep right there.

"Yao," Ivan said softly, causing the other man to lift his head a little and look up. "What're we going to do now?.. Or, you at least?.. You said you can't go back to your family.." he mumbled, worried for Yao's future.

Yao just rested his head back on Ivan's shoulder and laughed softly. "I don't know. Maybe I'll just take the next train out of town." He chuckled, although his suggestion was serious.

"But you don't have any money for a ticket." Ivan mused, raising a brow. "If we can get to my house, I have rainy day funds hidden away in there somewhere. And we could get some clothes that aren't a prison jumpsuit." He suggested.

"You keep saying 'we'." Yao pointed out, to which he nodded.

"I do intend to come with you, if that's alright? I mean, you _are_ my only friend, and we're fellow runaways, so," he went on, but was silenced by a quiet chuckle from Yao.

"Of course it's alright, Ivan. I'd love to run away with you."

"Alright then," Ivan chuckled. Thinking for a moment, Yao decided to speak again.

"What's the way to your house from here? I mean, it's best to have everything planned out before we try and move again." He stated, to which Ivan relayed a series of instructions. He described it to be a rather large home. Brilliant. "But you don't have the key, how are we supposed to get in?"

"Spare key in the mailbox." Ivan answered, nodding. "I'm not sure if my dog'll still be there, though.." he whined, glancing away.

Yao shrugged. "We can have a look anyway, right?"

"I'll get up when the pain isn't as bad," Ivan mumbled, touching at his knee and then cringing. "Because it's killing me right now."

"It did look like a nasty fall," sighed Yao, closing his eyes once more. "If needs be, I'll carry you again."

"You won't get too far, I know I'm no featherweight." He puffed in return, leaning his head back against Yao's. "I'll hobble as fast as I can, I guess. We're almost out of hell," he laughed.

After glancing out the end of the alley and to the main road for a while, Yao's eyes widened. "I know where we are," he mused. "I stole from a place near here."

"What'd you steal?" Questioned Ivan, trying to ignore the shooting pain in one of his lower limbs.

"A ruby and diamond necklace. Beautiful one. Red's my favourite colour, so I thought rubies suited me.." he chuckled.

"My favourite colour is yellow," Ivan whispered, the tiniest of smiles appeared on his face as he spoke. "It's a warm colour that makes me think of sunflowers," he mused. "And better times."

"This got deep all of a sudden," Yao joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Perhaps garnets are better for you, then. I would've guessed amethysts to match your eyes, though."

The time passed slowly, mere minutes seeming ten times as long. Ivan had begun to grow paranoid at some point, scared when civilian footsteps could be heard to either side of the alley. He was restless now, even though Yao was doing his best to calm him down.

"Yao," Ivan mumbled, tugging at his companion's sleeve slightly.

"Just a pedestrian, Ivan, don't worry." Yao assured. "We lost the guards a long time ago."

"But how can you be sure?-.." he fretted, distressed.

"I know, Ivan." Yao interjected, ruffling his friend's hair fondly. "We're safe."

They grew quiet again, but footsteps spooked Ivan once again.

"Yao-.." he muttered, more urgent this time. "Yao, we need to go," Ivan whimpered, trying to get up, but just slumping back against the wall again. Yao sat up properly, and raised a brow. "Is everything alright, Ivan?.. Did you see something?" He mumbled, getting up to a crouch.

"Lights," he answered quickly, trying once again to get up.

Yao turned to look, and froze where he was. There were the red and blue lights of a police car against a wall just visible past the end of the alley. "Stay very quiet." He uttered under his breath, trying to get to his feet. He stood, and did his best to help Ivan up as well, as shaky as the Russian was. They only managed to get a few more steps away before Ivan messed up in his tread.

He had tripped on a broken tin can and fell against the wall with a thump from his body and a clang from the can. It was all much too loud, and Yao flinched. "Ivan!.." he whispered, worried now. The man just clenched his teeth and slumped down, until he was sitting back upon the ground, clearly in agony.

"I think I heard something over here!"

Great, that had to be one of the police.. Yao bit his lip, and dropped back to crouching beside Ivan, their backs pressed against the wall. "Just stay quiet.." he whispered, creasing his brow and praying that the cops would pass.

The footsteps grew louder, and then a bright light was shone down the alley and-.. And it was shone right onto them.

"That's them!" exclaimed one of the police. "Prisoners, put your hands up," she instructed, lifting up her pistol. "No more running, I _will_ shoot if I have to."

Yao's mind grew numb. He couldn't possibly run with Ivan now – Ivan was far too slow, especially with his broken leg.

"Yao.." whimpered Ivan, staring up to his friend with wide eyes.

"I said, put your hands up!" the officer repeated, taking a step closer. This was Yao's signal. He leant down, cupped Ivan's face in his hands, and pressed his lips to Ivan's for a mere second.

"Goodbye, Ivan. You've been sweet to me."

With that said, he turned and began to sprint down the alley. He had to ignore the distressed cry that Ivan let out, too. If he had looked back, he would have seen the officer's backup manhandling and cuffing Ivan, as much as he was trying to resist and cry out for Yao. He blinked away the guilt and continued to run.

The street at the end of the alley was coming close, and fast. Now, he just had to follow the instructions Ivan had given, find his house, take what he needed, and head to the train station. He was fast. He could make it. Still sprinting, still hopeful, he finally reached the street. Yao would have kept running on, had a bullet from the officer's pistol not pierced straight through his chest.

* * *

**the end ! thanks for reading! ;w;;**


	7. Epilogue

**due to popular demand (my best friend telling me sometimes), here's an epilogue WAHEY**

* * *

Ivan's wrists became cuffed quickly, as an officer forced them onto him. He cried out for Yao as he was shoved down against the ground. The bullet came quickly to his cellmate. Blood came with the fall, and Yao crashed down against the cement.

"Yao!" Ivan screamed, trying to break away from the officer who was fixing his binds. His bad leg was aching, but he managed to crawl forward a tiny bit before the officer stepped on his back.

Yao lay twitching on the ground, pathetic life flashing before his eyes. He didn't have the energy to cough it up, so instead, blood just lamely dribbled from the side of his mouth. Everything began to fade, to dull, to darken. He had made ever so many mistakes, and trying to escape that damn prison was one of his worst. He thought he could do it. He was faster than anyone! He'd never tried to outrun a bullet before.

He lay there, bleeding out and trying to hold back tears at his own stupidity. He stared up with terrified copper eyes as the officer pursuing him stomped her boot down on his back. Yao elicited a weak cry. He could feel himself ebbing away, and turned his head to the side as much as he could.

"Ivan."

He said the word like it was chocolate on his tongue, and he tried to smile to reassure the wailing man of something. What exactly, he did not know. Perhaps that his last concerns were to be of him.

He only cried louder, tears bubbling and gushing from his eyes. No, this wasn't right. This couldn't be happening-.. Why had he said that?! It was hard to work out whether Yao had been acting selfishly, or if not being dragged along was the best path for Ivan. Well, he would never know.

Yao slumped against the pavement, unresponsive to the officer's flashlight shining at his bloodied face. She kicked him again. No response. Ivan knew what that meant. He elicited quite the howl of anguish.

"Shut up, you piece of prisoner shit," the officer cursed, and brought a boot to his head. That's when it went black.

Ivan was returned to the prison, handcuffs around his wrists, leg in a cast. From his new cell, one with much tighter security, all he did was sit by the door and stare. Officer Kirkland would walk by sometimes, and Ivan would bore holes into the man with his glare. Sometimes he would laugh softly, although the chuckling was not mirthful.

That was the first week back, without Yao, who had been his only friend in the world. Then again, he couldn't even be sure that Yao was his companion in the first place. Selfish bastard.

From what he heard about the prison, Alfred had escaped well and truly. There were rumors about him escaping on the train with his sister. He was the lucky one. Officer Kirkland had become a lot worse ever since finding out about his runaway lover. He would openly insult, kick, hit, threaten, spit on, or yell at any prisoner he decided to pick on that day. Most of his anger was directed at Ivan. If Ivan resisted.. Well, he would be put in a worse position. So he became a punching bag.

His mind was constantly focused on Yao. How, if he wasn't such a clumsy idiot, Ivan might've been able to save him. To escape with him. It was his fault. He had become a burden, one who cost dear Yao his life. And he hated himself for it.

The months ticked on, and with each one, Ivan began to lose it a little more. After several months, he began talking to himself in whispers. He spoke of painting his own guillotine, as odd an expression as that was. Whenever an officer passed, he would violently try to slam into his cell gate, to get out and attack them, to take his pent-up rage out on someone. All he ended up with was a dislocated shoulder.

Perhaps he greater understood Yao's hate of binds now. The way they restricted you, held you back. He understood. Especially since he had been what had shackled Yao right to the grim reaper.


End file.
